


Infinity Train: The Entity's Pawn

by Justa_Bagel



Series: Infinity Train: The Entity's Pawn [2]
Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon), Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, He's just kind of an asshole, Infinity train 1 and 2 spoilers, OOC Actor mark because this is before he goes completely evil, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Who Killed Markiplier?, original cars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27300238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justa_Bagel/pseuds/Justa_Bagel
Summary: 3 months after he's cheated on, Mark doesn't know what to do besides drinking himself to sleep every night- a perfect host for the demon that resides in his manor. Luckily, a mysterious train that doesn't obey the laws of physics kidnaps the actor before that can happen, but is the unpredictable world of train cars he's been brought to any better than his previous fate?
Series: Infinity Train: The Entity's Pawn [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886209
Kudos: 2





	Infinity Train: The Entity's Pawn

**Author's Note:**

> And so the adventure begins...

Mark stumbled as he attempted to lean into a half empty wine bottle clutched in his hand, trying and failing to take another sip as he drunkenly paced the dim cellar of the Manor. Some sort of music crooned in the background, though he didn’t exactly know where it was coming from, he hadn’t quite remembered putting any radio or records on.

_and hadn’t Benjamin taken the day off…?_

“...No matter.” He finally drawled out loud, in a voice that didn’t quite sound like himself, but he brushed that off as well, like he said, it didn’t really matter.

Soon enough, he ceased the pacing altogether, slumping down one of the cellar walls. He shoved his head in his hands, one of them was bound with bandages due to a… drunken fight he had with a mirror earlier that evening.

How had he ended up like this? So alone and pathetic?

 _ **Yes, how did you end up like this?**_ He’d probably be frightened by the voice if he wasn’t drunk. These ‘thoughts’, he usually didn’t pay them any mind at all. Tonight...he decided to humor them.

“Perhaps it was because I was too…” He paused, searching for the right words, “Me.” He concluded weakly, bringing the bottle to his lips.

_**No…** _

“Yes...what else would it be?” He challenged, “Don’t be so stupid...” He scolded the voice- _well_ -himself. He quickly pondered if talking to himself like this would make him insane...oh well. He guessed it didn’t matter now.

He brings his hand up to take another drink, but instead of the wine bottle in his hand, it’s a wooden box. An all too familiar one.

“Celine…?” He muttered out thoughtfully, suddenly no longer that interested in his own sanity or how the box even ended up in his hand.

_**You know who’s to blame** _

Mark doesn’t respond to his thoughts, at least not verbally. He opens the small box slowly, glancing at the ring inside. He remembered shoving it in the box and hiding it away in a safe after...

“I-uhm...” He felt his eyes beginning to water. Almost in a panic, he quickly snapped the lid shut and shoved the box into his pocket.

 _ **It’s not fair.**_ His thoughts rung out to him once again as he sunk further to the floor.

“It’s...really not.” He agreed in a grim tone.

He managed to locate and finish the wine bottle a few minutes after more self loathing, then he moved to get up once more, wobbling a small bit as he tried to regain his footing. Steadying himself on one of the shelves, he took a random bottle from it, not bothering to read the label.

He caught his warped reflection in the bottle when he dragged it out, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d really had a good look at himself. Sure he’d seen it in passing glances, but when was the last time he had really _seen_ it. Ironic for someone who used to dote his good looks on the daily.

The actor shook off the sudden uneasy feeling that crept it’s way up his spine and brought his attention back to the glass. He went to open the bottle, but the sudden sound of a blaring horn in the distance made him pause. The sound of a train.

_A train?_

To his...admittedly foggy knowledge, there were no train stations anywhere around him, perhaps a new station was constructed? The actor seemed to be pulled back to reality as he pondered this.

How long _had_ he been inside?

It was funny in a way, he was so caught up on his own moping and feeling sorry for himself...when was the last time he had thought of something as silly as the whereabouts of a train?

The music abruptly scratched to a stop, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in. In that time, he had somehow managed to stumble his way up the cellar, though, he had no memory of doing so.

Then, he heard it again- the sharp whistle seemed to ring through the entire house. The actor felt his legs moving forward, slowly moving towards the backdoor.Funny, he didn’t remember being this dizzy.

_Everything was fine._

Just a bit of fresh air-he hadn’t gotten any in a while- and off to bed...yes. Maybe he’d even catch a glance at this mystery train as it rode past. It’d be a nice sight after being holed up for...well, however long it had been.

Despite a small voice in his head from before warning him, he continued to slowly make his way towards the door.

The manor seemed to pull at him. The hallway seemed... longer than before, and floor somehow felt more and more like quicksand with each step, but he continued on.

The headache got worse.

It was almost as if his own body was begging him to stay inside.

These became more frequent as he continued, seemingly occupying every part of his mind.

His legs finally gave way when it felt as if his head was about to explode. Once he gave in and crumpled to the floor, his thoughts finally quieted down.

He was tired. _So very tired._

The actor’s eyes started to droop, the headache, as well as his intentions to go outside vanished. Maybe...maybe he’d lie there for a while, yes, he could always go out another d-

The familiar sound of a train whistle rung throughout the house, closer now than ever before, as if it were right in front of him.

The actor’s eyes shot open, he scrambled up to his knees, suddenly not feeling as tired anymore. There in front of him, in the middle of the den, was a train. He rubbed his eyes frantically, but every time he opened them, it was still there.

He must have drank a little too much, _maybe just a bit._

The doors to the boxcar closest to him screeched open, revealing a blinding light.

Despite his still drunken state, he was in awe. Drawn to it like a moth to a flame, he slowly walked forward into the light until he was engulfed by it entirely.

\--

\--

Mark could immediately tell something wasn’t right, it wasn’t that things were wrong, but things certainly weren’t right either. Shooting up out of his drunken...what _should_ have been a drunken daze, he glanced quickly around the room. Room…? Come to think of it, this wasn’t the manor at all.

Slowly sitting up, but not all the way, he rested his elbows on the ground and continued to look around. The room was dim. The whole room was made of some type of dark wood. Rows of shelves filled with various items lined the walls edge to edge, and the smell...old books and dust.

“Did...did I break into an antique store…?”

There’s no familiar echo when he spoke, affirming once again that he wasn’t in the manor...which he was surprisingly indifferent about.

Once he had gotten somewhat of a sense of his surroundings, he slowly pulled himself off the floor, using a nearby counter as support. Much to his dismay,he could feel his hand being coated with dust as he pulled himself up.

“Ugh...Maybe an abandoned antique store would be a better word.” He snatched his hands away from the table, surveying the now slightly dirtied bandages covering most of his palm. He glared at them distastefully, taking a moment to dust them off the best he could.

He had briefly entertained the idea it was a dream before, but now, he had decided against it. _Way too much dust. Why the hell would he dream up this much dust?!_

After he was...somewhat okay with the state of his bandages, he turned to look over the surface of the counter. There was a fairly large cash register along with an opened book placed on the desk. All of which, just as he suspected, were absolutely covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust.

He must have glanced away only for a second before the register suddenly let out a ‘ding’. Mark jumped back a bit too dramatically than he cared to admit. The center of the desk, that had used to be empty, now had a single pen, a yellowed piece of paper partly tucked under.

“So, this is a dream then.” Mark concluded dryly, his shoulders that were once tense loosened. He wasn’t a stranger to outlandish dreams, but they usually involved…less appealing locations and ideas to say the least. He reached for the paper with some level of caution either way.

He almost pouted at the thought, the only dream in months that didn’t involve his torture in some way and the setting was some dingy store that happened to have ‘magical items’. He thought he was more creative than that.

The contents of the paper almost made him choke down a scoff.

‘ **Magical Pen.** **W** **rite here.’** Were the only words presented on the message, along with an arrow pointing to a blank section under it. The letters looked as if they were from a typewriter, but it was clear the note was written in pencil.

The actor rolled his eyes, he placed the paper back down and picked up the pen, signing his name quickly on the scrap unprompted. It felt nice to put his signature on something again, although the sloppiness made him cringe. He placed the pen down with a huff and crossed his arms, watching both the paper and the pen in anticipation.

The ink on his signature slowly turned from black to red, then orange, slowly cycling through each color of the rainbow.

“Changing color. _Very impressive_.”

As if sensing his boredom, the paper sprang to life, flashing a few more colors before bursting into colorful sparks. The actor once again let out an abrupt yelp. He stumbled back, shielding his face with his arms. Soon enough, the fire cracker-like sounds stopped.

Slowly, he looked back to the counter, which somehow, was still undisturbed by the mini fireworks show that had just transpired. The paper was still there, no worse for wear, as if it hadn’t just exploded.

“Huh.” Mark didn’t dare pick up the paper, in case it burst into colorful sparks again, but he kept his eyes fixed it, still stunned.

“Well...that’s more like it.” He whispered in amazement after a few seconds of silence, try as he might to sound uninterested, he was quite pleased with the fact that the past few months didn’t completely ruin his creativity.

The paper burst into a puff of smoke, making the actor recoil once again. When the small cloud cleared, it was gone, replaced instead by a small sign.

‘ **Thank you for your ‘kindness’. Please take one.’**

Mark looked away from the somewhat passive aggressive message. “Take what?”

Previously unseen lamps in the room flashed on, making the once dim room practically as bright as a Christmas tree.

He didn’t flinch at the ‘magic’ this time, instead shifting his gaze to the now brightly lit area behind him. The items on the shelves were now easier to see, some were simple children’s toys while others were elaborate decorated china and formal outfits, all not organized in the slightest.

“Oh joy. I get to dig through all this junk.” He complained, rebuilding his proud and uninterested demeanor _(though he was anything but uninterested at this point)_. “Is that it?”

The counter responded with another ‘ding’ that was more high pitched than the last. He decided to take that as a ‘yes’.

The Actor decided to just leave it at that and listen. This was all fake after all, what was the point of arguing with his own mind?

\---

\---

Though Mark would never admit it, he was having a bit of fun with whatever this dream was, but he was confused as to why he hadn’t woken up already. Sure, some of his dreams felt like they had lasted for hours, but he never had a dream quite like this in a long time, if ever.

He placed down the latest item he’d been inspecting, _(Some_ _tall_ _ancient_ _decorative box,_ _he had no idea what it did, but something about it was ominous)_ moving on to the next, which happened to be a small stuffed bear slumped against the end of the shelf.

“Hm, what do you do then?” Mark picked it up, the fur was more rough than he expected. It looked like it was just that: a normal stuffed bear, but that could have been said for the pen, cowboy hat, gumball machine, and paper airplanes to name a few, but all of them had at least one thing that made them magic.

The bear perked its head up upon hearing the actor, tilting it a bit to meet his eyes. Even though they were standard beady eyes that all stuffed animals had, it somehow managed to convey some type of emotion.

“Oh, so you are alive then, at least in some way.” He examined the bear further, despite looking quite dusty _(like everything in th_ _e_ _damn store)_ it was almost perfectly free of any damage, though it did have a few crude stitch marks on the back.

“You know, you’re the most boring thing I’ve dreamed up in a while.” Despite his negative comment, he still looked at the bear fondly. “Perhaps...that’s a good thing, though.” He nods at the bear, who funnily enough, mimicked the action.

For the first time in almost 2 hours, the cash register once again burst to life. It let out another high pitched sound before, its drawer opened then subsequently closed. Two strange looking doors appeared on either side of the room after the register was done with its show.

The actor only spared the doors a glance before putting his attention back on the bear in his hands. “This dream keeps getting weirder and weirder.” He tells the animal. “Well, I guess last night’s events were anything but normal...In fact, I hallucinated the most stupidest thing before this-”

One of the doors clicked open without warning, a sliding metallic sound accompanying it. The sounds of screeching wheels and moving metal began to make their way throughout the room.

“What the hell-” Mark blurted out quickly, he unconsciously clutched the bear tightly in his arms as the sounds grew louder. His eyes snapped back towards the door, though he almost wished he hadn’t when he saw what was on the other side.

A steel floor connected to a bridge leading to a huge metal structure in the distance. Cautiously, he stepped up and started slowly walking towards the door, his heart beating harder as he neared the supposed exit. Finally, he reached the door and wasted no time in walking through it. Again, he wished he hadn’t.

The ‘metal structure’ was a train car, in fact, what he was standing on right now, it was a train car as well. The wind he felt passing by and the ginormous wheels on the other train car all but confirmed it was moving. The cars were endless, all lined up and going to god knows where.

No. This was too real. The sinking feeling in his chest, the wind rushing past, the sudden need to attach himself up against one of the train car’s cold metal walls in fear that he would fall to the desolate wasteland below...

_This wasn’t a dream._

_It was all real._

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, after about 2 months the first chapter is finally posted, so that's good. Now that I got the hang of things the updates will hopefully be sooner.
> 
> Also, sorry if Actor!Mark is too OOC in this, I'm trying to make him more like the Mark in AHWM and ADWM (this also means he's more of a 'heartbroken idiot') since he was kidnapped by the train before the manor could influence him to go through with the revenge plan in WKM. So if you wanted to see a more canon completely villainous actor mark get redeemed, this sadly isn't the fic for you. 
> 
> And of course: Please watch Infinity train on HBO Max if you haven't already and are able to. Also, watch A Heist with Markiplier since it's 1 year anniversary was yesterday!


End file.
